


crazy feeling clouds my mind

by TheFlirtMeister



Series: the finish line is just the start [2]
Category: Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (Movies)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Getting Together, Jumanji References, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27724034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFlirtMeister/pseuds/TheFlirtMeister
Summary: Martha takes up rock climbing. It was either that or mixed martial arts, and the idea of touching another girl and pinning her to the ground makes Martha want to explode.
Relationships: Martha Kaply/Bethany Walker
Series: the finish line is just the start [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029786
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	crazy feeling clouds my mind

Martha takes up rock climbing in the summer break before university. It was either that or mixed martial arts, and the idea of touching another girl and pinning her to the ground makes Martha want to explode.

So, rock climbing. It’s fun, and she’s fast, and she likes sitting at the top of the wall and looking down at the instructors below. She likes the way they cheer for her when she reaches the top. Likes the way they shout at her when she upside-down abseils back down to the ground.

They don’t know she’s done this before, without a harness, or a spotter, or anything to keep her safe.

Rock Climbing also brings her closer to Ruby. She slips into Martha’s body the same way that Martha slips into a hot bath, letting the water overwhelm her until it’s all too much. Ruby doesn’t appear often, but when Martha is upset, or annoyed, or the adrenaline is pumping in her veins, Ruby is there to take control, to wear Martha’s body like a selkie’s coat.

Martha doesn’t like to talk about it, because if she talks about it, it means it’s real.

Bethany waits for her in the parking lot, sitting in her car and filming Tik Toks. She always comes prepared with Starbucks, Iced Venti Caramel Macchiato with extra drizzle for herself, and a Strawberries and Cream Frappuccino for Martha.

“You look sweaty.” Bethany says when Martha slides into the passenger seat beside her on Tuesday morning.

“Thanks.” Martha says, wiping her face on her hoodie sleeve. She doesn’t wear make up to gym sessions, but Bethany is teaching her tricks. All her sleeves are stained with foundation marks from where she absentmindedly rubs her face.

“Gross.” Bethany says in a high-pitched valley girl voice and turns on her iPhone camera. “Watch me do the Renegade dance.”

Martha watches, slurping at her drink, waiting for her flushed cheeks to get back to normal. Although around Bethany, she’s never normal.

Bethany finishes her dance and looks at Martha expectantly. “Well?”

“Very...” Martha doesn’t know what to say. “Fast?”

“You’re so cute.” Bethany says. “And you have sprinkles on your nose.”

Instead of waiting for Martha to get it off herself, Bethany leans in and wipes away the whipped cream. Martha can smell Bethany’s breath, caramel with a hint of peppermint. In the Jungle, Oberon smelt of old books and wet ink.

They don’t talk much about Bethany and Oberon, but Martha knows that he made more of a lasting expression than Bethany lets on. Bethany now doodles maps across her journals without thinking about it and gets out of breath when she exerts herself too much.

“There.” Bethany says. “Perfect.”

She presses on the tip of Martha’s nose and makes a honking noise. Martha laughs too, awkwardly.

“We better get going. I don’t want you to get a parking ticket.” She says.

Bethany starts the car which grumbles angrily at being used, “How was practise?”

“Good. I’m trying to beat my time.” Martha looks out of the window as they pull out of the parking lot. “One of the boys keeps trying to talk to me.”

“Is he cute?” Bethany asks.

“No.” Martha says instantly. “I mean, I don’t know. Maybe he would have been cute to you?”

“You know my taste in boys.” Bethany says. “Dark haired, daring pilot trapped in a video game-“

Martha laughs. “Bethany he’s like 50 years old!”

“Okay, maybe I like DILFS!” Bethany protests, but she’s grinning. “A girl can dream!”

“He has his own Bethany.” Martha says. “A little baby.”

“She’s eight, hardly a baby.” Bethany flicks her hair over her shoulder.

“How do you know that?” Martha asks. “Are you stalking him?”

“No, dude, I found him on Facebook.”

“That counts as stalking.”

“Tell that to a judge.” Bethany says and eye rolls. “He added me.”

“So _he_ was stalking a minor.”

Bethany leans across without taking her eyes off the road and pinches Martha’s thigh. Martha squeals and bats her away and Bethany laughs. Martha can feel her face getting hot again and she takes another long sip of her drink.

“You’re so annoying.” Bethany says, as they get to the crossroads.

The left path is Bethany’s house, and the right path is Martha’s apartment complex, with her dad and stepmom and an empty bedroom.

“Do you want to come over?” Bethany asks. “I need help studying.”

Martha knows that’s a lie. Bethany is smarter than she lets on, and anyway, they went over test papers a few days ago. Although, Spencer and Fridge were both there distracting them, so maybe Bethany wants to look at a few more things in detail...

“Will your mom mind if I stay at yours?” Martha asks.

“Nah, she’s at one of her Karen meetings at the school.” Bethany says. “Trying to convince the principle that my little sister definitely deserves to stay on the cheer squad.”

“What did she do now?”

“What _didn’t_ she do more like.” Bethany mutters. “She got caught smoking in the boy’s toilets, which is like, instant disqualification from cheer, but my mom is protesting that cheer is making her smoke in the first place.”

“Is that true?” Martha asks.

“No, my sister just can’t afford to buy a vape. I mean,” Bethany wrinkles her nose. “Who smokes nowadays?”

“Your sister, clearly.”

“God, what a fucking idiot.” Bethany complains, and takes the left-hand lane. “I was never like that.”

Martha doesn’t answer that.

Bethany parks in her garage, cluttered with rich people things like empty workout equipment boxes and bottles of industrial protein shake. Martha climbs out of the car, feeling like a sweaty mess, whilst Bethany unlocks the garage door.

“Hello?!” Bethany yells up the stairs. “Dad?!”

Silence answers back and Bethany shrugs.

“Either he’s dead on the landing or he’s at work.”

“Bethany!” Martha says. “You can’t say stuff like that!”

“Why not?” Bethany asks.

“What if you make it come true?”

“Fine.” Bethany crosses both her fingers and holds them up in the air. “My Dad is definitely not dead and is probably screwing his assistant in his office at work.”

“I thought he has a male assistant.” Martha says.

Bethany waggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Exactly.”

Martha doesn’t say anything and instead shoves her hands into her hoodie pockets. She’s met Bethany’s parents a couple of times, and they’ve been nothing but kind to her. She can tell they’re confused at Martha and Bethany’s friendship, but too polite to ask.

Normally Martha, Bethany, Spencer and Fridge hang out in Spencer’s basement, where his mom has set up a mini fridge for them, and occasionally brings down snacks from work. If they want to study, they set up in Bethany’s bedroom, and if Fridge wants to rope them all into babysitting his niece, they go to his. Nobody ever asks to go to Martha’s, and she’s pleased about that.

Martha follows Bethany upstairs to Bethany’s bedroom, eyes fixed pointedly on the stairs in front of her, and not on the low rise of Bethany’s jeans. Martha can’t believe that she ever wore an outfit like that in the jungle, but not that she had a choice.

Bethany’s bedroom is a mess, and Martha politely folds a few sweatshirts to make space on the bed for them to sit down. Bethany catches her doing it and rolls her eyes, taking the stack from her hands.

“You’re a guest, not my maid.” She says, “You can just throw my stuff onto the floor.”

“I can’t do that.” Martha says honestly. She still feels vaguely pleased when Bethany sets the stack of sweatshirts on her desk and gives them a pat of satisfaction.

Bethany throws herself down onto the bed and kicks off her Vans. Her shirt rises up to expose her tanned stomach, and Martha can see the belly-button ring that she got when she was 16. Apparently, Bethany’s parents still don’t know about it, and she edits it out of all the photos she takes.

Martha can’t believe she knows Bethany Walker’s secrets. Sometimes she can’t believe that she even has friends to share secrets with. Jumanji gave her something terrible, but it gave her Bethany, Fridge, and Spencer.

“Do you want to go over English paper again?” Bethany is asking. Martha shakes her head back into the present. “We can read through the Jane Eyre exam passages.”

“Okay.” Martha says, because this is something, she’s good at. Exams, and tests, and logical thinking, not girls, and the smell of caramel on Bethany’s breath.

Martha sits down on the bed, her back against the wall, feet dangling off the edge. Bethany tosses her the copy of Jane Eyre from her schoolbag, and Martha smooths down the dog-eared front cover. She likes her books to be neat, the spines uncracked, the pages clean. Bethany has no love for books.

“Read to me.” Bethany demands, and settles her head in Martha’s lap. Martha freezes for a moment, and then remembers she’s fought off masked mercenaries, and shouldn’t be so worried about a pretty girl cuddling up to her.

“Which passage do you want to start with?” She asks, and her voice is only a little hoarse.

“Jane and Helen.” Bethany says. “I’m least confident with that.”

Martha doesn’t think that Bethany lacks confidence in anything, but turns to the correct page, and begins to read.

“ _The next day commenced as before, getting up and dressing by rushlight; but this morning we were obliged to dispense with the ceremony of washing: the water in the pitchers were frozen...”_

Martha reads until her voice cracks in the middle of a sentence, surprising them both. She looks down at Bethany, honestly expecting to see the other girl asleep, but Bethany stares back up at her.

“Hey?” Bethany says with a confused smile.

Martha looks down at Bethany’s mouth and her heart drops down into her stomach. She suddenly feels out of place in Bethany’s room, still sweaty from rock climbing, her hair in a state, pimples across her cheeks. Bethany looks like she’s just stepped out of Cosmo magazine, and Martha feels like she’s just clawed her way out of the jungle.

“Are you okay?” Bethany asks. “Do you want me to get you a snack?”

“Can I take a shower?” Martha blurts out. “I feel terrible.”

Bethany sits upright, pulling her shirt down. “You should have said earlier! Of course you can.”

Bethany’s bathroom is seashell themed, with sculpted taps and mosaic tiles on the wall of the bathtub. Martha’s only used it when no other bathroom in Bethany’s house was free, and Fridge point-blank refuses to use it because he says it’s too girly.

In Martha’s entire life, she’s always had to share a bathroom. In Bethany’s house, each family member has their own en-suite.

Bethany gives Martha some of her clothes to wear, a pair of loose pink shorts and an oversized sweater that has rainbows embroidered on the cuffs. Martha is pretty sure she’s never owned anything pink in her life, except maybe when she was a baby.

“My mom bought it for me.” Bethany says, holding it up against Martha. “It’s going to look so cute on you.”

Martha looks at the clothes dubiously. “Surely the sweater will cover up my shorts?”

“That’s the point silly!” Bethany says. “It’s a cute relaxed fashion look.”

“But I’m not cute or relaxed.”

“You’re cute.” Bethany insists, and Martha flushes.

“You can use my shower gel.” Bethany says, pointing to a bottle on the side of the tub. “It smells of passionfruit.”

“I know.” Martha says without thinking.

“You know?”

“I can smell it on you.” Martha says, and thinks she might just explode right then and there.

“Huh.” Bethany says, in a way that Martha can’t work out. “I’ll be in the other room if you need me, kay?”

“Piranha’s aren’t going to come up from the pipes.” Martha says, glad of a distraction. “I’ll be fine.”

“You never know.” Bethany sticks out her tongue and quietly closes the door.

Martha strips off her gym clothes and places them on the floor. She runs the shower until it’s scalding hot and then steps inside, shoving her head underneath the spray. Martha holds herself there until she can’t handle it any longer and gasps out for air.

She can feel Ruby frustration to come out, her desperation to take control. Ruby solves problems by kicking them, and this isn’t the sort of situation you can solve by punching. Martha rests her head against the shower wall, the water thundering onto her back and screws up her eyes.

Memories that aren’t her own flood her mind. She remembers Ruby’s training when she was a teenager, hormonal girls shoved together and taught to fight. She thinks about stolen kisses, wrestling on the dormitory floor, something fiercely sexual that she buries down deep in the back of her own brain.

Ruby wants to pin a girl to the floor with her thighs and make her beg for her own life. She wants the threat of a knife in her back as she dances with a girl undercover. She wants someone else’s blood and lipstick smeared across her mouth.

What does Martha want?

 _Bethany Walker_. The thought is spoken in Ruby’s voice, cunning but careful. Like Martha is the cornered prey animal, ready to strike at any moment.

It’s impossible though. Bethany is off limits. Bethany is her best friend, and she can’t destroy that. She almost destroyed her relationship with Spencer because of that stupid kiss in Jumanji, and they’ve barely repaired their friendship. Martha can’t destroy her first female friendship by doing something stupid.

But Bethany held her hand. And told her she liked girls. And she waits outside Martha’s gym sessions, and knows her Starbucks order, and invites Martha over to study even when she’s one of the smartest people that Martha knows-

Ruby rolls her eyes inside of Martha’s brain. _Duh_.

“Oh my god.” Martha says out loud and gets shower water into her mouth.

Martha scrubs herself clean, then clambers out of the shower, water spraying everywhere. She can hear that Bethany has switched on the television next door, a program about palaeontology. Martha listens to the soothing voice of the male presenter as she dresses in Bethany’s clothes.

She feels weird in the pit of her stomach, like she’s about to jump off the rock wall, or step into a pit full of vipers. Even as she’s putting on Bethany’s clothes, she can’t shake the feeling, but she needs to push herself through it. She needs to be brave.

Martha pushes open the bathroom door, and Bethany looks up from where she’s curled up on the bed. She smiles, patting the space next to her for Martha to join, and Martha wonders how she’s been so stupid for so long.

“Look at you in your fancy outfit!” Bethany says. “So adorable.”

“Do you like me?” Martha blurts out.

Bethany’s eyebrows knit together. “What? Of course I like you! You’re my best friend dummy.”

“No, I mean-“ Martha takes a deep breath. “Like-like me?”

Bethany sits upright, and for a moment, Martha thinks she’s got this all wrong. Then Bethany nods her head, once, twice, and pushes herself up from the bed.

“It’s okay if you don’t like me back,” Bethany says, and her voice is the quietest that Martha has ever heard. “I still like being your friend.

Martha crosses the room before she can stop herself, barrelling into Bethany’s arms. Bethany gives a soft noise of surprise, and then wraps her arms around Martha’s back. She smells warm, and Martha wraps her arms around Bethany tightly.

“I’ve been such an idiot.” Martha mumbles. “I thought you were being friendly.”

“I’ve only liked you for literal months Martha, don’t take it personally.” Bethany says, teasing, and Martha groans against Bethany’s neck.

“Shut _up_.”

“Only been crushing on you since Jumanji,” Bethany continues, and Martha can hear that she’s grinning, and it makes her squeeze Bethany even tighter. “When I taught you how to flirt, and you were so ridiculous at it, and then you kept making me laugh, and you were so brave, and I realised I wanted to be more than friends.”

“I thought I was projecting.”

Bethany gives Martha a little shake. “I was projecting more! I was giving off fairground illuminations!”

Martha laughs at that, which turns into a snort because her eyes might just be watering a little bit. They both pull away, and Martha giggles nervously because Bethany’s eyes are also red rimmed.

“Oh my god, are you crying?” Bethany asks.

“You’re crying!” Martha protests. “Don’t blame me!”

Bethany laughs, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Cute girls make me emotional.”

She leans in and presses her mouth to Martha’s forehead. Martha shivers with delight and tilts her head up to meet Bethany’s gaze.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Bethany asks.

Martha nods.

Bethany leans in and brushes her mouth against Martha’s own. Martha kisses her back softly, her eyes fluttering shut happily. Bethany’s mouth is warm, and her lip gloss tastes of strawberry, and Martha wants to stand here kissing her forever.

“Good?” Bethany murmurs.

Martha nods. “Uh huh.”

She kisses Bethany again, opening her mouth slightly which gives Bethany the chance to nip at her bottom lip. Martha pulls away and Bethany runs her fingers through Martha’s wet hair fondly.

“Spencer taught you how to kiss then?” She asks.

“Don’t ruin the moment.” Martha tells her, and Bethany grins.

“Does Ruby have experience kissing girls?”

“I bet Oberon hasn’t kissed any girls.” Martha fires back.

“But he does know how to kiss.”

Bethany gives Martha another kiss, more forceful, almost knocking Martha off her feet. Martha kisses back eagerly, and she can feel Ruby’s delight in the back of her mind.

“Wow.” Martha says, a little dizzy.

Bethany looks smug. “I know how to treat a girl right.”

She takes hold of Martha’s hand, and kisses the back of her calloused knuckles. “Come on. Let’s go back to bed.”

Martha squeezes Bethany’s hand tight and follows.


End file.
